The Proposal
by 2Old4This2
Summary: The wedding plans are well under way: the invitations have all been sent out, the guest list is almost complete. There's just one problem-Han seems to have overlooked one little detail.
1. Chapter 1

_This was supposed to be a one shot; it didn't work out that way. Is there such a thing as a three shot? My thanks to StatsGrandma57 for her help and suggestions._

**The Proposal**

Chewie stared at the pair of scuffed black boots sticking out of the _Millennium_ _Falcon's_ forward engineering compartment in disbelief. Somehow, he would have imagined that with his wedding fast approaching—four weeks and three days, if the Wookiee's math was correct—he would have imagined that Han Solo had better things to do than to tinker with his precious ship's particle sensor array. Then he snorted out a fat chuckle. _No, _Chewie corrected himself, _this is exactly where I would expect to find him! _His friend was nothing if not consistent; if there was something bothering him, Han always turned to the _Falcon_ as therapy.

Heading to the main hold, Chewbacca deposited the carton containing his and Han's midday meals onto the holotable. His nose twitched, and he could feel the saliva pool in his mouth. He was very hungry and was already regretting that he'd only ordered three rare nerfburgers; he would have been happier with four! But the last time he'd visited Malla, she'd chided him for getting flabby, poking his midsection with a stiff finger. A broad grin spread across the Wookiee's face; what had followed afterward had proved to his wife he hadn't lost all of his primal skills from living on Coruscant!

Licking his lips, Chewie bellowed for Han to join him for his meal. There was no answer. With one last longing look at the carton of food, he headed to the forward compartment.

Standing below the boots, Chewie barked out a query. Still no answer. Didn't the man want to eat? It wasn't like Han to miss a meal. With a snarl, the Wookiee banged his large fist on the wall next to the open trapdoor.

There was a thud, which sounded very much like a head banging into a bulkhead, followed by a string of very creative Corellian curses before Han dropped lightly to his feet on the floor of the little compartment.

"What?" Han asked, wiping the sheen of perspiration off his forehead with the back of his arm, leaving a smudge of dirt in its wake.

Chewie had intended to tell him that lunch was there, but instead hooted with mirth.

"What?" Han asked again, now with more than a trace of irritation evident in his voice.

Still laughing, Chewie grabbed a nearby towel and launched it in Han's direction. The Corellian snatched it neatly out of the air with one hand.

"Very funny, Furball," he said as he wiped the dust off his face. "Food's here, I suppose?"

Chewie sniffed the air and nodded vigorously. He headed back to the main hold, Han following in his wake.

The two friends sat at the holotable in silence for a few minutes. Chewbacca devoured his first burger with enthusiasim, noting that Han merely played with the edge of the wrapper on his. Chewie's furry eyebrows rose as he saw his friends eyes shift back to the open trapdoor in the engineering compartment. Obviously something was bothering his friend and Chewie was reasonably sure he knew what. Nonetheless, he warbled only an innocuous question regarding the repairs Han was making.

"No, there's nothing wrong with the sensors," Han answered, placing the uneaten burger down. "I just want to make sure everything is in good working order, now that this is the official vehicle for Minister Leia Organa Solo." Han's smile was a mixture of love and pride.

Chewie reached for his second burger. He grunted a question around a mouthful of nerf.

"Yeah, she's taking my name," Han answered, taking a sip of the fizzy drink Chewie had brought for him. "Well, okay, she's adding my name," Han smiled crookedly. "I'm good with that."

He shoved his untouched nerfburger to one side, wiping his hands on the towel. Chewie's eyes followed it and his stomach growled. Lost in his own thoughts, Han didn't appear to notice.

Suspecting he knew what was bothering his friend, the Wookiee asked a general question about how preparations for the wedding were progressing.

"Gods, I wish it were all over!" Han exclaimed, banging his hand down on the table. His drink glass bounced dangerously, but he caught it with a quick hand. Chewie's eyebrows rose.

"I know Leia's doing almost all the work," Han continued, "but it's all gotten so big and so formal." He squirmed in his seat. "I really would have liked something simple," he explained. He met Chewie's disbelieving look with a sheepish grin. "Yeah, I know, what did I expect? I'm marrying a princess. But it's all this ambassador, and that delegation…" he rambled to a halt. Then his eyes hardened. "And that's not taking Mon kriffing Mothma into account," he spat out.

Chewie lowed sympathetically.

"I wish it could just be you, me, Luke…maybe Wedge and Rieekan, and whatever Alderaanian official needs to be there."

Chewie barked a quick query.

"Yeah, and Leia!" Han glared at his friend. "That's right, laugh it up at my expense!"

Still snickering, the Wookiee started on his third sandwich. Looking at his friends tense features, he decided it was time to change the subject. He woofed a companionable question.

"What?"

Chewie repeated his question; it had been simple enough.

"What do you mean, how did I propose?"

Han looked truly confused. Perhaps he'd phrased it the wrong way, Chewbacca thought. True, most of his information on human mating and bonding had come from the holovids they kept on the _Falcon_, but the Wookiee was certain that's what they called it. He explained himself to the Corellian.

"You mean did I get down on one knee and pledge my undying devotion?" Han asked incredulously. "Nah. I didn't have to." He thought for a moment. "I mean, I was willing to be frozen in carbonite for her."

Which hadn't exactly been Han's idea, Chewie reminded him.

"Hey! I took her to Dathomir!" Han bristled.

That was kidnapping, Chewie retorted with a low growl.

"And there was the bet! She said I won the bet." Realizing where this was going, Han was on the defensive now. "She told me that's what she wanted!" he objected.

Chewbacca looked at his friend, amusement and sympathy mingling with the utter disbelief in his blue eyes. He explained his thoughts on the matter of romance in a longish series of barks, growls and rumbles.

Han appeared to give the matter some serious thought. "Maybe I haven't been very romantic," he conceded finally, his brow furrowed, "but it's kind of late now, isn't it? I mean, two-thirds of the free galaxy have already been invited to the wedding. And accepted," he added. "How can I propose now?"

Chewie mewled a soft explanation.

"You're right," Han agreed after several heartbeats worth of deliberation. "It would be for us. We need more of this to be about us." He rose and paced quickly across the hold and back, warming to the idea. "I need a ring," he said, more to himself than to the Wookiee. "Where can I get a ring?"

Chewie pointed out there were literally hundreds of jewelers on Coruscant.

"No! I don't want a ring from here!" He made another quick trip across the hold and back. "Chewie!" He leaned across the holotable to address his friend. "I know just the place to get a ring. But it's gonna take me a day." Chewie's eyebrows soared. "Twenty-four standard hours; maybe less. I need you to explain to Leia that I had an errand. But don't tell her what." Han paused for a minute. "She'll probably be mad that I took off; but reassure her I'll be back by tomorrow afternoon. Just try and keep her happy for that long, okay?"

Chewbacca had dealt with the tiny princess' anger before. No, it really wasn't okay. But one look at the excited look on Han's face told him he'd do it. For Han, and for Leia. He pointed at Han's untouched nerfberger and awrooed plaintively.

"Sure, go ahead and take it. I'm not hungry anyway, and I've got to get her ready to lift off!" He turned and headed back toward the forward engineering compartment; stopping only long enough to answer Chewie's final question.

"Where am I going?" he asked over his shoulder. "Corellia!"


	2. Chapter 2

_Four parts, this story will definitely be four parts! Thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed and following this story. As always, thanks to StatsGrandma57 for her ideas, suggestions and corrections. Thanks, too, to jeanmarie3 for inspiring this chapter._

**The Proposal**

_Part Two_

Han Solo docked the _Millennium Falcon_ in the main spaceport of Coronet City. Closing the hatch and setting the security controls against both curious passers-by and possible thieves, he made his way through the busy port area and out into the capital of his homeworld. It felt kind of strange to not be in fear of his life—either from Imperial troops or from CorSec. Not that he was complaining about that, of course, but it was still an unusual sensation.

Corellia's capital city was every bit as busy—and noisy—as Coruscant, Han thought, but it was also different somehow. Maybe it was the fact that when he took a deep breath he didn't feel like he was choking, and when he looked up past the fantastic spires of the office and residential buildings, he could actually see the blue of the sky, and a few white puffy clouds. Inexplicably, Han always felt a strong affection for the planet he barely remembered living on. It was the perfect place to get Leia's ring!

He tugged his vest more tightly against his body, making sure the credit chit—and the bag of actual credits—that he carried in an inside pocket were secure. He also checked to make sure his blaster would slip freely from its holster, should the need arise. Han was all too aware that this area was swarming with young pickpockets and their older companions, the smash-and-grabbers. A lopsided grin—half fond, half sheepish—spread across his face. Of course he knew about them, he'd been one of those little miscreants once, a long time ago!

After checking a city directory, Han moved with long, loose strides toward Coronet City's high-end shopping district. As he moved, throngs of beings eddied and swirled around him. It all looked so different from this vantage point, he thought, even as a smile slanted across his face. No longer was he a malnourished child begging and stealing; he was a grown man with money in his pocket. Hells, he was marrying a princess! That was, assuming she didn't kill him first for leaving her with all the wedding details.

The door chimed discretely as Han walked into Dunqeel's Jewelry. Well-lit and strongly secured transparsteel display cases were interspersed with artfully arranged groupings of cushy sofas, low tables, and delicate armchairs. In one such cluster, a soft-looking young man sat with one arm stretched across the back of a sofa, a glass of sparkling purple wine clutched in his opposite hand. Across from him, a salesperson displayed a tray of sparkling gems. Easy marks, Han thought.

He had just located the cases containing women's rings when another salesperson approached him.

"May I help you, sir?"

Han bristled at the note of disdain in the tall, skeletal looking Corellian's voice; he'd heard it often enough before in his life. This wasn't the time or the place to pick a fight, though, he reminded himself. He was here for Leia.

"I'm looking for a ring for my fiancée," he responded with a steady voice, "but I don't really see anything in here that would suit her." Han looked over the trays of rings, not one of the flashy baubles seemed appropriate for Leia's subtle, dignified beauty. Most seemed too gaudy, others were just plain ugly. Obviously this store catered to customers with more money than taste!

"No, I imagine there is nothing here that would suit you," was the scathing reply from the clerk.

Han's hazel eyes shot up from the case and locked onto the clerk. Those eyes narrowed dangerously as the salesperson looked from Han's scuffed spacer boots, up past the low-slung blaster to the vest, and finally to his face. He heard the clerk's quick intake of breath, and saw his eyes widen slightly. Han tried to relax the snarl on his features; he hadn't meant to scare the man quite that much. Just a little.

"Sir, if you could just excuse me for a minute," the salesperson stammered out. "Let me get someone more, er, appropriate, to help you." The man scurried away through a doorway into the back part of the store.

Disgusted, Han was half-tempted to walk out before security came to throw him out, but he decided not to. _No, Solo, _he told himself, _let's see how this plays out!_

Instead of the security guard Han was expecting, the man who returned with the flustered salesclerk was obviously a person of some importance, at least in Dunqeels Jewelry. He was older than the clerk, as short and round as the clerk was tall and thin. His head was bald, his cheeks florid, and his eyes were as shrewd as any Han had seen.

"It's an honor to meet you, sir," the man gushed. "Truly an honor!" He clasped Han's hand between both of his own. They were soft and pudgy, and made Han feel vaguely uncomfortable.

"Please bring us some refreshment," he continued, ordering the clerk. "Oh, this is such an honor for my little establishment." The round little man beamed. "I am Jeron Dungeel, at your service."

Han's eyebrows soared—the owner himself? He said nothing; he really didn't know what to say.

"Captain Solo, no, General Solo! You have no idea what a privilege it is for my shop to be your choice for a ring for your beautiful bride to be, Princess Leia Organa!" the jeweler continued.

_Kriff! KRIFF! _So that was what this was all about. He wasn't worth helping until they realized who he was! His eyes darted around the shop. The few customers in the store had looked up when they heard the flowery accolades from Master Dungeel, now they were staring curiously at Han. He felt an uncomfortable heat start at the back of his neck; he rubbed absently at it.

"Yeah, well, uh, I didn't see anything that was really what I was looking for," Han stumbled out.

Master Dungeel looked horrified. "Please, general, sir. Just sit here." The jeweler placed a hand in the middle of Han's back, trying to guide him to one of the seating areas. "I'm sure we can find something for you." He offered an insincere, sycophantic smile. "I would be most honored to be able to say that the princess's ring was purchased here!"

Han unseated Dungeel's hand from his back with a quick twitch of his shoulders. That was it; he was done here! He was not going to let Leia's ring become a marketing point for this irritating little man. There were already too many people using the wedding for their own purposes. The ring, and the proposal, were supposed to be about Leia and him alone!

"Listen, buddy," Han snarled as he headed toward the exit, "I said I didn't see anything I wanted. I am not going to take any second-rate ring just so your store can look good!" On that particularly undiplomatic note, he stepped out of the store and out into the scurrying crowds of people beyond its door.

####

**A standard hour later, Han sat in a dingy cantina just beyond the Treasure Ship Row bazaar****, ****staring morosely into his second glass of Corellian whiskey. **He thought that it was too bad he wasn't enjoying the drink, since he'd opted to pop for the good stuff! His trips to Druban's Jewels and Nalon's Fine Gems had pretty much followed the same pattern as at Dungeels, leaving him tired, irritated, and without a ring. Sith! With the luck he was having here, he could have stayed on Coruscant.

Coruscant. Leia was going to have his head when he got back! Somewhere between Druban's and Nalon's he'd remembered the kriffing list of guests that had to be at the security office tomorrow morning! If he left now, he would be back in time to give her some last minute help, but he wouldn't have a ring—and what was the point of a proposal without a ring! If he kept searching for a ring here, he wouldn't be back in time to meet the 0900 deadline. In that case he might have a ring, but he might not have a bride-to-be!

Disgusted with the whole situation, he tossed back the rest of his whiskey and groaned aloud. Flipping a few coins onto the table, he rose. He'd head back to Coruscant tonight. Maybe he could find a ring there, if there was still going to be a wedding.

"Hey!"

Han turned around at the sound of a small voice, but he didn't see anything.

"Hey!" he heard again, this time with a tug at his vest.

Lowering one hand to his blaster, Han looked around again, and then down. His breath caught in his throat. The dirty face looking up at him was like looking at himself 30 years ago. He eased his hand away from the blaster.

"Let go, kid!" he said ungraciously.

The small hand didn't loosen its grip; Han loosened it for him.

"Do you need some money?" he asked the boy. He reached into his pocket to pull out a few credits—and to make sure the rest of his money was still there. It was.

The dirty fingers snatched the money from Han with a speed the pilot could only admire. He grinned reluctantly.

"You know, kid, in a few years you ought to look for another line of work. You won't be so cute then." Han aimed himself for the cantina's exit while the boy tried to puzzle out what Han had just told him.

Han was out on the street when he heard the footsteps pattering behind him.

"Wait!" the boy called breathlessly. Han slowed his steps so the boy could catch up, but he didn't stop or turn around.

"I can help you," the child panted.

"Sure you can," Han said sourly, recognizing the start of a con.

"You need a ring; I know where you can get a good one!"

Han stopped dead in his tracks.

"What? How do you know that?"

Big, golden-brown eyes looked into Han's face. "I saw you before, in the fancy shops, looking for a ring." The child paused and smiled smartly. "For a princess, you said," he continued. His grin was just a little cheeky.

Han was pretty sure the kid didn't watch the news holos, so he'd obviously been following him—and paying attention. He had to give him credit for that.

"Yeah, okay. So?"

"I know where you can get a good ring, really good. Better than at those snooty stores." Now his smile was one friend to another, equal to equal. _The kid was good. Real good._

"Listen," Han laid a hand on one bony shoulder. "I've been where you are, I understand having to do some things that aren't quite right." He smiled encouragingly at the boy. "You gotta eat. But this ring—it can't be stolen, you understand? It's for a princess, a real princess."

The small face that looked up at his was solemn, older suddenly, than it should be. "I understand," the child said. "And this ring isn't stolen." He tugged at Han's hand "C'mon."

_This is a bad idea, _Han thought. _I know this is a bad idea. _A wry smile tugged his lips up. _But it can't be any worse than any of the other places I've been. And maybe it won't even be stolen!_

"Okay, kid, lead the way."

####

**Traversing the narrow, twisting streets of Old Coronet City brought back memories Han wasn't sure he wanted to remember. **They looked just as bad now as they had then. The kid, Han figured he couldn't be any more than eight, navigated with a surety that confirmed what he already knew—this boy was not going home to mom and dad at the end of the day. Still, he didn't seem to be living in fear. That made Han feel a little better, maybe after Shrike was gone, nobody new had moved in to take his place.

They stopped in front of a nondescript door in a nondescript building. Han noted that this building appeared to be in good condition, even if it was old, and that the door and one small window appeared to be clean and well kept.

The boy reached up to open the door, but Han stopped him with a gentle hand.

"Wait a minute, kid."

The boy looked curiously at him. "We're here," he said.

"Yeah, I figured." Han paused for a heartbeat. "What's your name? You never told me."

"Hagan"

"Listen, Hagan. I came with you because…I don't actually know why." Of course Han knew why he'd come with the kid, but he wasn't about to explain his past to an eight year old. "But you have to understand; just because I'm here doesn't mean I'm going to buy this ring."

Hagan nodded, then smiled. "You will," he said, opening the door. "It's the best ring ever!"

The room they walked into was cluttered, but clean. All around them were stacks of datapads and holos. There were also piles of clothing of all different sizes and styles, some cookware and dinnerware, even some baby things. In the far back was a small, old-fashioned safe. It still even had a keypad on it instead of one of the newer, fancier force field and repulsor locks.

Just coming into the front from some sort of back room, was a man. He was neatly, if cheaply dressed, and had hair so blonde it was almost white. His eyes, however, were such a dark blue they almost looked black. He smiled at Hagan, then looked curiously at Han. His brow furrowed, as if he were trying to solve a particularly vexing riddle.

"Jerdan!" Hagan called out. "I brought a buyer."

"So I see," Jerdan said. He continued to stare at Han.

Han was starting to feel more than a little uneasy under Jerdan's unblinking gaze.

"He needs a ring for his princess," Hagan piped out.

"Listen, I just came along for the kid," Han began. "I guess this is some sort of mistake."

"I know you," Jerdan said suddenly.

_Sith! Not here too!_

"Yeah, I know, the holonews," Han let out a gusty sigh.

"No! You were with Shrike. So was I."

For several moments, Han was too stunned to speak.

"What?" he asked stupidly. Weaving through the piles of datapads and clothing, Han drew closer to Jerdan, his eyes narrowed. "I don't recognize you," he continued in an accusing tone. "When?"

Jerdan pulled his slight form up to its full height, calmly meeting Han's glare head on. "You might not ever have seen me. I was only six when I joined Shrike's crew, right before," Jerdan paused and swallowed, "right before Dewlanna was killed and you disappeared." He smiled wryly at the painful memory. "Shrike was really, really mad!"

_Yup, definitely things he didn't want to remember!_

"So, what do you do here?" Han asked him instead, indicating the odd collection surrounding them.

"He gives us stuff!" Hagan chirped from his perch atop a stack of shirts.

"Hagan, if you knock those over, you have to refold every single one of them!" Jerdan warned the dark-haired boy. "Hagan helps me out here sometimes," he explained, catching a stack of pants before they toppled. Then he raised his dark eyes back to Han's face. "I look for stuff people need," he went on. "Some are donations, some I buy on the cheap. I sell some of this stuff, if the person can afford to pay. If they can't; then 'I give them stuff,'" he concluded with a smile. "I remember what it was like to have nothing," he concluded.

Han nodded wordlessly; he remembered what it felt like, too. _Gods, you're a lucky man, Solo!_

"So what's this about a ring?" he asked Jerdan.

"The kid said you had one." Han smiled. "I really do need one."

"Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials, Captain Solo," Jerdan said formally. "You have traveled a long way from Shrike's crew."

Han nodded. "Though there may not be a wedding if I don't get back to Coruscant," he stated glumly. "Leia's not going to be too happy with me if I don't get back there quick-like."

"The princess has a temper?" Jerdan asked with a smile.

"You have no idea!"

"Well, I'm pretty sure she'll like this." The blond man turned to the safe and keyed in a code.

"You really are going to marry a princess? A real princess?" Hagan looked up at Han, his eyes wide.

"I sure am, kid." He reached over to ruffle the kids brown curls. "Who knows, maybe someday you will, too."

"How's this?" Jerdan asked, handing over the small velvet bag he'd removed from the safe.

Han pulled out a smallish ring with his thumb and forefinger.

It was amazing. Delicate twists of gold wire supported a Keral fire gem that must have been ¾ of a carat. The multi-faceted gem shot sparks around the small, dark room. It was perfect: subtle, yet elegant, the most beautiful thing Han had ever seen. Just like Leia. This was it, Han knew.

"And you know for a fact that it's not stolen?"

"Well, I didn't steal it!" Jerdan exclaimed. "Before that…" he let the thought hang there.

"How much?" he asked Jerdan. Obviously the man wasn't able to accept his credit chit. Han pulled out his comm and checked the time on the display. If he gave him all his cash as a down payment, then found someplace he could cash in the chit, Han reckoned he could pay for the ring and still make it back to Coruscant before that kriffing guest list had to be turned in. It would be tight, but the _Falcon _could do it!

"I can't take your money for this," Jerdan said.

Han's mental calculations ground to a halt. "What?" he shouted. "Are you crazy?"

Jerdan laid his hand on Han's shoulder. "I should explain where I found this. After Shrike was killed, we were kind of at loose ends. A lot of us didn't know what we were going to do without him."

Han's stomach clenched. When he'd killed Shrike, he'd only been thinking of himself, and Dewlanna. He'd never given a thought to all the kids Shrike had in his crew, and what might happen to them.

"A bunch of us went through the ship, looking for what might be valuable." Jerdan smiled, and his dark eyes sparkled. "Shrike had quite the stash, but Dewlanna had a stash, too," he explained to Han. "Credits, some jewelry, lots of stuff. I think she must have lifted some of the stuff from Shrike, just in case we needed a little extra."

Han's eyes goggled. "She always said she didn't have very much."

"Like I said, I think it was 'just in case.' I know she'd want you to have this for your bride. We all knew how much she cared for you."

Han stared at the ring in his hand. Then his eyes traveled around the crowded shop, and finally to Jerdan's sincere face.

"Okay, I'll take it," he acquiesced. "But only if you take this." Han handed over all the cash he had; it was quite a bit. "Use it to help out with the shop. Leia would like that," he said.

"I think you would, too," Jerdan said, taking the credits. "Happy future, Han Solo!"

"You too, Jerdan! You, too."

Han put the ring back in the bag, and stowed the bag in the inside pocket of his vest. With a two-fingered salute, he pelted out the door and back toward the spaceport. He might just make it in time! A broad grin lit his face; now Dewlanna would be a part of the wedding, too!


	3. Chapter 3

**The Proposal**

_Part Three_

"Look," Leia pointed to an entry displayed on her monitor. "Prince Isolder has sent his acceptance. I wonder if his offer still holds." The Princess' sweet tone did nothing to soften the angry look in her dark eyes.

"What offer?" Winter asked. She already knew the answer to her question, but sometimes it was the job of personal assistant, or best friend, or best woman at her best friends coming wedding, to play straight man. And since Winter was all three, she gritted her teeth and waited for Leia's anticipated answer.

"His offer for me to be queen of the Hapes Cluster, of course. It looks like I might not have any previous obligations after all," Leia snarked.

"I think his wife might object," Winter replied tartly. "Leia, stop behaving like a gundark," she chided, rising from her own workstation and walking across the princess's office to perch her hip on Leia's desk.

"How could he do this?" Leia sputtered; Winter could all but hear the unspoken 'to me.' "He just takes off, without any explanation, leaving me with this mess." Leia's all-encompassing gesture included her monitor, Winter's monitor, and the two huge piles of flimsies stacked between them. "And he sends Chewie to make his excuses; the nerf-herder can't even explain to me in person, why he suddenly has to go to Corellia." Leia paused her tirade for a shaky breath. "He didn't even say good-bye."

Winter's eyes narrowed as she looked at her friend. She wondered if Leia might not be harboring a touch of hurt feelings along with her righteous indignation. She could hardly blame the woman. The princess had been doing the work of at least three normal beings, all while under considerable emotional strain.

Putting together a new Senate, or Council, or whatever the group would finally opt to call itself was a task akin to juggling ignited lightsabers while blindfolded and standing on one hand. Maybe a Jedi master could handle it without undue anxiety, but certainly not a mere mortal! Winter couldn't recall ever having seen a group of more whiny and petty sentients in her entire life, but then, that was politics! Outwardly Leia was handling the process with extraordinary calm, but inside Winter was pretty sure the princess was considering the relative merits of blasting a few representatives to the Outer Rim!

Added to that unpleasant reality was the constant pressure from Mon Mothma and Borsk Fey'lya on who Leia should invite to her wedding, who she shouldn't—and probably what she should wear, serve for dinner, and say for her vows! And never once did either of those two meddling politicians ever even consider the groom's wishes, which just helped to cement said groom's already less than kind opinion of them. To say that Han Solo hated their guts might be too gentle of a way to phrase it! And since Leia found herself having to answer to those two more times than not…well, it was safe to say that the princess's temper was more than little frayed.

And the final guest list was due at the Security Office by 0900 tomorrow morning. Han Solo had picked a fine time to run a mystery errand, Winter thought. It had better be a good one!

"Leia, let's call it a night," Winter suggested. "I'm really hungry."

"Look at this disaster," Leia snarled, without looking away from her monitor. "It all has to be done by tomorrow morning, which you well know." She raised her eyes to glance at her friend. "You're just trying to distract me, aren't you?" she asked accusingly.

"Yes, I am!" Winter agreed. "But I really am hungry, and we have to eat. We can go to the tapcaf down a few levels and eat a couple of nerfburgers. Each." Winter smiled at the thought. "And ale, lots of ale," she added hopefully.

Leia snorted. "Right. If I eat a burger, I won't be able to fit into my dress!"

Winter looked the petite woman up and down. "Leia, you could eat the whole nerf and not gain anything. I think you burn it off with nervous energy. Unlike me," she sighed, running her hand along the wholly imagined bulge of her belly.

The princess smiled contritely. "I'm sorry, but I'm really not hungry. You go; you can bring me back a salad. I'll just stay here and work on these." Her eyes darkened. "And if I accidently leave one of Han's friends off the list, oh well! He can always dance with Mon Mothma."

"I know you don't mean that!" Winter reached a slim, white arm across the piles of flimsies on Leia's desk and poked at a switch; Leia's monitor went dark. "Enough!"

"What are you doing?"

Winter clasped Leia's arm in a surprisingly tight grip and pulled the reluctant princess to her feet.

"Apparently I'm dragging you to dinner."

####

_**The Laughing Gammorean **_**tapcaf wasn't nearly as unsavory as the ones located in Coruscant's lowest levels, **but it was disreputable enough to displease Mon Mothma and Borsk Fey'lya. This made it an ideal place for Leia and Winter to eat. At this time of the evening, it was crowded with hungry, rowdy customers, mostly political aides and staffers, plus a healthy contingent of pilots and personnel from the spaceport. As they wove through the tightly packed tables, Winter hoped that seeing pilots wouldn't set Leia off on another angry tirade about her absent fiancé. Fortunately, the princess seemed more focused on finding an empty table than on who her fellow diners were.

Unfortunately, there didn't appear to be any open tables available. Winter was just about to admit defeat and concede to take-away food when she heard a familiar voice.

"Hey! Winter! Leia! Are you looking for someplace to sit?" Wedge Antilles smiled broadly and waved both his arms over his head. Seated next to him were Tycho Celchu…and Chewbacca. Winter felt Leia stiffen perceptibly next to her. _Kriff, this day just keeps getting better and better!_ Winter pasted what she hoped was a pleasant smile on her face.

"Leia," she bent her head toward her friend's ear. "It's really crowded here; why don't we bring something back to the office to eat," she practically shouted over the noisy crowd.

"You don't have to do that! We've got plenty of room here!" Wedge's years of piloting X-wings obviously hadn't damaged his hearing. He continued to grin as he indicated a pair of unoccupied seats at the table. "We'd be happy to have you join us."

Tycho smiled and rose as the two women approached. Chewie nodded politely. Winter quashed the little thrill she felt at Tycho's smile; she figured she'd probably need to keep her wits about her tonight. Chewbacca, she noticed, looked about as uncomfortable as she felt. _Curse Han Solo anyway!_

The standard greetings were exchanged all around. A server-droid zipped jerkily over to the table and requested their drink orders. To Winter's surprise, instead of water, a fizzy drink, or even a kaf, Leia ordered an Alderaanian ale. Well, she thought philosophically, the intoxicant would either take the edge of Leia's foul mood—or sharpen her tongue. It was going to be an interesting evening.

####

**Winter found herself warily relaxed, if such a juxtaposition were possible.** Everyone at the table appeared to be having a good time. Instead of a salad, Leia had opted to eat an avan sandwich—she very rarely ate nerf—and was currently on her third ale. Her sullen look had been replaced with a pleasant, if tired, smile. It was obvious that the princess hadn't forgotten about the stacks of wedding responses back in her office, she was just choosing to ignore them for the moment, it seemed. Winter wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

Nor had her friend forgotten about her absent fiancé; every few minutes she tried to get some kind of information from Chewie on Han's important errand. The Wookiee remained mute, however, as did Wedge, even though he obviously knew where his fellow Corellian had gone. Every once and a while Winter snuck a look at Tycho Celchu, just because she could. Each time, he was looking back at her. There was that little thrill again!

"So," Leia said suddenly, "I guess I need to get back to my office. I have to have the guest list done by 0900 tomorrow morning." She sighed tragically. "I don't know how I'm going to do it."

_Hmmm, _Winter thought, _Leia never lets on that a job is too big or too difficult._

"I'm probably going to be at it all night," the princess continued, in the same theatrical tone. "I hope I don't make any mistakes. I'd hate to unintentionally slight one of Han's friends." She smiled wearily. "You're sure he won't be back before tomorrow?" Leia met first Chewie's, then Wedge's, eyes.

Winter raised her brows curiously, but remained silent. Leia was up to something. As she looked across the table, Tycho had a bland smile on his face.

Chewie quickly rumbled to the princess.

"Oh, no Chewie!" Leia smiled up at the Wookiee. "I'm trying to be very careful; but Han never gave me a list. I'm working from memory." _If she bats her eyes at him, she's going to blow it, _Winter thought. She'd figured her friend's strategy out. Another quick look across the table elicited a wink from Tycho; he'd figured it out, too.

"It's very kind of you to offer," Leia continued sweetly, "but I couldn't ask you to give up your time."

Another spate of growls and warbles.

"Well, that would be very nice of you, if you wouldn't mind." Another sweet smile. "I'm sure Han is glad you're willing to help me."

Chewie snarled a little—Winter suspected he knew he was being conned—but he nodded his acquiescence.

Leia then turned her stare to Wedge Antilles. Unlike the Wookiee, he just stared back, a slow smile starting to form.

"Nice try, Princess," he said. "But Han and I are just drinking buddies." Tycho's eyes darted to his friend's face, then back to Winter again. "Chewbacca has the life-debt, I don't," Wedge continued.

Leia finished the last of her ale and surrendered graciously. "It was worth a try," she said. "Come on, Chewie," she said as she stood, "let's get to work."

"I'll help!"

Leia, Chewbacca, and Winter all froze in their tracks, turning as one to look at Tycho Celchu.

"Tycho?" Leia looked honestly astounded at the pilot. "Uh, that's very nice, but…it's a list of wedding guests. Nearly a thousand of them," she explained.

"I know that. But I'm from Alderaan, and I know this is an important thing for the Survivors, and…" Tycho's voice trailed off. He stole one more glance at Winter, before turning back to face his princess.

Winter watched as Leia subtly shifted from frantic fiancée to grateful monarch. "Thank you, Tycho." She extended one small hand to take his.

"I'll come, too," Wedge said suddenly. He looked at the curious faces of his friends. "The three of you are from Alderaan," he explained. "Well, someone has to be there to represent the Corellian side!"

####

**Winter squinted up at the chronometer on her workstation; it read 03:22. **She rubbed the bridge of her nose with two slender figures. Leia might have exaggerated the amount of work that still needed to be done when she broached the subject at dinner, but apparently not by as much as Winter had first assumed. She never would have believed it would take them this long, especially with five of them working on it.

"Okay," Wedge called out, "how about" he stared blearily at the flimsy in his hand "Muuurgh?" Wedge shook his head as he squinted at the name. "That can't be right!"

Chewie barked enthusiastically.

"What'd he say?" Wedge took a long pull out of the bottle of Adleraanian ale at his side.

"That he needs to come. Han saved his life once. And Muurgh's wife's life, too." Leia translated. "Of course he did," the princess muttered crossly. She tipped her own bottle of ale back and drank deeply. "Add him to the list, Chewie," she directed.

Warbling cheerfully, the Wookiee entered the name onto the growing guest list. His hands seemed too big for the keyboard, but he had a remarkably accurate touch—and he was the most sober of the group.

_I think he's probably better at keying-in than I am, _Winter observed. Maybe Leia should hire him!

"How about…" Tycho called out the name of a particularly tedious Sullustan, who, unfortunately, was a planetary ambassador. Leia grimaced, but nodded. Chewie's fingers clattered on the keyboard.

Winter glanced at her own bottle of ale, and pondered the wisdom of switching to something less intoxicating. With a shrug, she took a long drink from the bottle.

Tonight was a night Winter wouldn't forget, even if she'd been able to! On their way out of the Laughing Gammorean, Wedge had picked up half a case more of Alderaanian ale—to help them stay hydrated while they worked—he had rationalized. Now the four humans were seated on the floor of Leia's office, surrounded by flimsies and empty ale bottles. Since Chewbacca was least affected by the ale, he'd been elected typist. About an hour ago, Tycho had disappeared for a few minutes, returning with several bags of some salty, greasy, snack; at least he'd realized they needed something to absorb the intoxicants!

To Winter's astonishment, the whole insane procedure seemed to be working; the list was growing longer, and the stacks of flimsies were shrinking. Best of all, Leia's anger seemed to have been dulled, if not completely dissipated. Han was still likely to have to pay the price for his disappearance, but at least for tonight, it had become a non-issue. _Thank the Maker! _At this point, all Winter wanted to do was get this kriffing list done _and get some sleep!_

Chewie looked over the desk to the group seated on the floor and woofed a query.

"What'd he say?"

"You've got to learn shyriiwook, Antilles," Winter informed him tartly. "He wants to know if Doc and Jessa are coming."

Leia raised a curious eyebrow.

"They're from the Corporate Sector," Winter translated Chewie's response for Wedge and Tycho.

"I know them, sort of," Wedge said. "They're smugglers."

"Mon Mothma won't like that," Tycho observed.

Heads swiveled to look at the princess, who was in the process of opening another bottle of ale. She smiled, and licked the foam off the top of the bottle.

"Good!" she said happily. "Add 'em to the list, Chewie!"


	4. Chapter 4

_This really is the final part. Many, many thanks to StatsGrandma57 who helped me write this chapter. Also, thank you to everyone who's read, reviewed and followed the story. I hope you've enjoyed it!_

**The Proposal**

_Part Four_

The _Millennium_ _Falcon_ returned to its permanently assigned docking bay at 09:22, exactly 22 minutes past the deadline for turning in the final guest list for the wedding. Han Solo had done his best to make it back in time to help Leia with the last minute details—running through Coronet City like a madman, and forcing his way to the head of the line of ships waiting for clearance to lift off. It was a good thing the _Falcon_ was a well-known ship with diplomatic credentials, or CorSec might have shot him down! As it was, he was reasonably certain there'd be a hefty fine to pay. But traveling at lightspeed would always be a relative experience, and no matter how close he could shave it, he'd known there was a possibility he wouldn't be back in time. The fine would be nothing in comparison to Leia's ire, he thought glumly.

The first thing Han saw when he descended the boarding ramp was Chewie, leaning against the heavy door that lead from the docking bay into the spaceport area. His friend did not look happy, and Han had only made it halfway across the bay when the Wookiee started howling at him.

"Hey!" Han responded. "Take it easy. I was up most of the night getting back here." He ran a hand over his face, then looked up into Chewie's angry blue eyes. "How did it go with Leia?" he asked, pretty sure he already knew the answer.

Chewie's long, loud tirade pretty much confirmed what Han already knew. Leia had not been happy that Han had disappeared when he was supposed to be helping with the guest list. She'd been up most of the night working on it and she'd probably still wouldn't have finished it in time if Chewie hadn't stayed up _all night _helping her. And Wedge and Tycho had helped her, too.

"Thanks, pal. I really owe you."

Chewie snarled a little; then he yawned prodigiously, revealing all of his large, dangerous looking teeth. Then he snarled a little more.

Han got the unspoken message. "And, yeah, I owe Wedge and Tycho, too," he said.

The look on Chewie's face softened as he warbled out an observation.

"Oh," Han ruminated. "So you think Tycho was there so he could be with Winter?" He smiled. "Well, he could do worse. Those Alderaanian girls…" he continued, a lascivious gleam in his eyes.

The Wookiee howled and covered his ears.

"Hey, pal, I'm just joking." His smile seemed to turn inward. "Well, sort of," he added softly. "You gonna try and play matchmaker again?" he teased his friend. "You're pretty good at it."

Chewie whuffed rather proudly.

Han sidled closer to his friend, and leaned up toward the approximate location of the Wookiee's left ear.

"Wanna see it?"

Chewie awrooed eagerly, peering down as Han drew a soft drawstring bag from one of his inside vest pockets and reached two fingers inside. The Wookiee's eyes went wide and he breathed out an admiring sigh.

The ring in Han's palm seemed to glow with an inner fire. Sparks of multi-colored light flashed from it in all directions as Chewbacca reached out and picked up the dainty piece. He turned it carefully with his large fingers, inspecting the workmanship, before he returned it to Han. His eyes surveyed the docking bay, making sure no one else had seen them handling the piece of jewelry.

In hushed tones, Chewie asked the obvious questions.

"It cost more than you probably want to know," Han answered him. "And not just in credits. That's a special ring." His eyes took on a faraway look. "Look, I'll tell you about it later; I've got to get to Leia."

The Wookiee barked suspiciously at him.

"NO!" Han yelled. Several dock techs glanced in his direction; Han lowered his voice. "No," he repeated. "I didn't steal it! And I didn't use stolen money. I've been setting some credits aside for a while now."

Chewie grunted curiously.

"I dunno. Three or four years maybe. Since Hoth. Hey! Ow!" Han backed up and looked at his friend, who had just smacked him in the side of the head. "What was that for?" he asked, rubbing his head.

After a scathing commentary on the relative stupidity of Corellian males, Chewie explained that for the little princess he would have been glad to contribute.

"Thanks, pal!" Han reached up and ruffled the fur on the Wookiee's neck. "But this was something I had to do for myself. No help, not stolen money, no scams. I had to do this the right way. For Leia."

####

**Exactly 83 standard minutes later, Han stood in front of Leia's closed office door. **He'd spent an inordinate amount of those 83 minutes ingesting large quantities of strong, black, kaf—which had succeeded in washing away the last of Han's fatigue from the hurried trip to Corellia and back. Unfortunately, it had also contributed to his already palpable anxiety over Leia's reception of him…and of his proposal.

During the downtime in hyperspace, on his way back to Coruscant, Han had envisioned a myriad of romantic ways he could carry out his proposal. He'd considered inviting her on a picnic lunch in the Alderaanian Gardens, which were located on the other side of the planet from her office; he knew she loved it there. He'd also considered luring her to the _Falcon_ and whisking her away to one of the nearby pleasure satellites for a bit of afternoon delight, followed up with the proposal. But now that he'd talked to Chewie, and he realized just how overworked and overwrought his beloved actually was—and apparently had been for some time—he figured he might be better off staying closer to home. And that precluded the possibility that the princess might not even be speaking to him!

Han's hand hesitated as it hovered over the entrance keypad. Of course he had access; even with the high security protocols in place, all he had to do was palm the plate for recognition, and punch in his code—he was Minister Organa's fiancé after all! But now he pulled his hand back, running it over his mouth and chin, hiding the sheepish expression on his face. _If she's mad at you, Solo, you deserve every well aimed barb she can sling,_ he thought.

He felt like an idiot—staring at her door like a frightened schoolboy. Han hadn't felt this awkward since Endor, when he thought that Leia was in love with Luke! Except that this time he ought to be feeling awkward—and embarrassed, and ashamed—because he _had_ been behaving like an idiot. He'd left the bulk of the wedding preparations to her, cavalierly telling her she was better at it than he would be. Even worse, he'd been nothing but obstructive when it came to Mon Mothma's input and the unending political angles of what should have been his and Leia's very personal affair. _Poor Leia!_ She didn't like the situation any more than he did, and all he had managed to do was make the job that much more difficult for her.

But he was ready to do the right thing now. He would apologize for his Huttish behavior, tell her how much he loved her—he really needed to tell her that more often, he reminded himself—then he would propose, down on one knee, with the ring. He'd done the right thing on Endor, and that had worked out really well. This would too, as long as she hadn't locked the door against him! With a deep breath, he reached his hand out…

"You are either truly brave, Solo, or truly stupid!"

Han jerked his hand away from the palm plate and wheeled around. Winter stood directly behind him, her eyes cold.

_It's not my fault _were the first words that came to Han's mind, but he bit them back. He knew they weren't going to work on Leia's best friend, any more than they would work on Leia herself.

"How about a little of both?" he offered instead. Han slanted a smile in Winter's direction.

She glared back. "Where were you yesterday?" she asked.

"I, uh…" Han began.

"You left her with that mess, without even a word of explanation!" the white-haired woman continued. "It took four people and a Wookiee almost all night to get that list ready," Winter snarled. "You better have a damn good reason—or there may not be a wedding!" Her silvery eyes seemed to shoot sparks.

Han felt his temper flare. Nobody talked to Han Solo that way! Well, no one except Leia. And Chewie. "I went to Corellia," he spat back. "For this." He pulled the bag out of his vest and unfolded the ring from its shimmersilk wrappings.

Winter's eyes widened, much the same way Chewbacca's had. "Oh," she breathed. She looked back up into Han's face. "You didn't steal it, did you?" she asked with a frown.

"Why does everybody keep asking me that?" he snapped. Winter merely raised an eyebrow. After all, it was a reasonable question; she'd met Han Solo when he'd been trying to steal something.

"No, I didn't steal it!" he proclaimed. "It's all legal." He flashed another lopsided grin. "I'm going to propose," Han explained. "I, uh, haven't done that yet."

Winter's face worked through a series of strong emotions: disbelief and anger being chief among them. Finally her lips twitched up into a smile. "Maybe you're not as stupid as you look after all, Solo!" she said.

"Hey!" Han objected.

"Good luck!" She turned and headed away from the doorway, as quietly as she'd approached.

Han watched her go for a heartbeat, then straightened his shoulders, slapped his palm to the plate and put in his code. The door slid open.

With a sigh of relief, he entered Leia's sanctum.

####

**Leia looked at her monitor without actually seeing anything. **This didn't really bother her, since today she didn't think she had enough mental capacity to make a single decision, anyway. Last night she'd had entirely too much to drink, and entirely too little sleep, to make this day anything more than something that needed to be survived. Her head wasn't pounding, which was what she'd expected. Instead it felt as if it were expanding, which was creating a growing number of fissures in it where her brains were oozing out.

When the door to her office whooshed open, the princess didn't bother to look up, it hurt too much.

"Winter, if you're here to tell me I need leave this office for any reason, I don't know if I can be held responsible for my actions," she said wearily.

"It's not Winter."

Leia's head snapped up, causing her to swallow against the pain that motion caused.

"Leia, uh, hi," Han said.

The look she gave him would have made Hoth seem warm. After leaving her to do all the work for the wedding, he had his nerve, just sauntering into her office without a care in the world!

Han's mouth quirked up in a tentative smile.

At the sight of that smile, Leia felt her temper heat up like a runaway reactor core.

"What the hells were you thinking?" She seethed at him. "You knew we had to get the guest list submitted by this morning, and yet you just skip out, without even giving me an explanation, and leaving poor Chewie to make excuses for you! You've been little enough help already! Sometimes, I really wonder if you want to get married at all!"

"Gods! Of course I really want to get married!" Han looked desperate; obviously this is what he'd been afraid of! Well, what had he expected?

"Look, Leia, I know it was really bad timing—and I'm so sorry—but there was something I had to do. Something important." Seeing her unyielding expression, he hurried on. "I know I screwed up, bad. I know I've screwed up lots of things." He took a step forward, reaching his hand out to her. "But I don't want to screw us up!"

Leia looked at Han, so obviously sincere, and felt her anger start to dissipate. Her stomach did the little flip it did every time he looked at her that way. All she'd really wanted was an apology; she reached out to take his hand. It was then that she realized this time her stomach wasn't doing the good kind of flip! She jumped up and hastily headed for the ladies' fresher.

"Leia!" Han called after her.

He followed her out into the hall, even though she wished he wouldn't. Leia could hear him outside the door while she was miserably, embarrassingly, sick. He was waiting when she emerged a few minutes later, pale and exhausted. Wordlessly, put his arm around her shoulder, squeezed her encouragingly, and helped her back toward her office. She didn't object, she felt too awful, and Han's loving concern helped…even if she was mad at him!

"Leia, I didn't know you were sick–" Han began.

"I'm not sick! I'm hung over," she retorted, wiping a shaky hand over her mouth. _Gods! She'd never live this down! I'm never having another drink, ever again, _she silently could feel Han's eyes on her and she saw the corners of his mouth lift, just for a second, before he got his face back under control.

"Well, you're not the first person it's happened to," Han reassured her dryly.

"I know, you've made a lifestyle of it!" Leia snapped at him. Well, at least emptying her stomach had made her head feel a little better, she thought.

"That hasn't been true in a long time, and you know it," was the indignant reply. They reached Leia's office and went inside, the door swooshing shut behind them.

Mustering what little dignity she could, Leia extricated herself from Han's supportive embrace and returned to her desk. "I've got a lot to get done. Why don't you go?" She really just wanted to be left alone to die in peace. "I'll see you tonight."

"Not yet. There's something I need to do first."

Surprised, and more than a little irritated, Leia looked up. She didn't have the time nor the patience for this—and that was all Han's fault. "Well?" she asked him.

Han moved around the side of her desk, until he was standing next to her. Leia looked up at his earnest expression and felt a spark of curiosity mix with her aggravation.

"I know this has been an awfully busy time for you, and I know I haven't been as much help as I could have been," he began.

"That's putting it mildly," she observed with a peeved smile.

"I'm sorry about that."

Leia felt the tight knot of anger inside her start to loosen. "Han, I forgive—" she began, but he held up one finger, cutting her off.

"I realized, yesterday, that among all the things I haven't done, I forgot the most important one." Han reached inside his vest and pulled out the bag.

Leia felt her heart flutter, and her stomach did that little flip again, but this time she knew it was the good kind.

"I went to Corellia yesterday to get this," Han lifted the bag to show her. "Leia, I love you more than I ever believed I could love anyone."

To her utter astonishment, Han dropped to one knee, and unwrapped the most beautiful ring Leia had ever seen. The room grew warm suddenly.

"Leia," Han said, his voice soft and deep. "Would you give me the greatest gift you ever could? Will you marry me?"

Leia looked from the sparkling ring in his hand, to the shining hazel eyes, and knew that this was the best moment of her life.

"Well," she began, appearing unsure of her answer, but one look at Han's stricken, _loving_, face, and she knew she couldn't keep up the pretense.

"Of course I will!" She reached out and took his face in her hands and kissed him like nothing else mattered in the universe. Because, she realized, nothing else did.


End file.
